Short and Sweet
by Kaede-tama
Summary: Of mistletoe, misplaced love letters, love, death, and...size? A series of short oneshots of varying length and genres, all centered around USCan.
1. I: Grow A Pair

**Short and Sweet  
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I: Grow A Pair

"_What_ did you say?" Alfred F. Jones stopped mid-bite into his delicious (or not so) hamburger. He stared, cerulean blue eyes wide in shock, at his best friend across the table.

"You heard me," Gilbert Beilschmidt snickered. He tossed his head back, silver hair flying, crimson eyes gleaming, and absolutely cackled.

Alfred kicked the other student in the shin. "Shut up! I picked truth, you asshole."

"Yeah, well, you just dared me to flash that old woman," his friend countered pointedly. "You have to do this or you're a wuss."

"Why are we playing this game anyway? It's for girls."

"That's exactly why _you're_ playing it, dude."

"H-Hey! I'm not a girl!"

"Then grow some balls and ask the kid out!"

Alfred came to McDonald's to grab a bite for lunch, _not_ to get stuck in some pervertedly-warped game of truth-or-dare with Gilbert. Although daring him to flash a poor old lady outside had been entertaining to watch, Gilbert became hellbent on getting revenge.

And thus, Alfred was currently being dared to ask out some weirdo sitting in the corner. They were wearing a red hoodie, ratty-looking jeans, and had wavy hair that made it hard to distinguish their gender.

"I'm not even sure if that's a girl," Alfred hissed sourly. "What if it's a guy?"

Gilbert shrugged. "So? You're bi, aren't you?" He popped a French fry into his mouth.

"Yeah, but..." Alfred trailed off. When he realized that he couldn't find any strands of argument, he sighed in aggravation and stood. "Fine, you asshole."

It was just a question, right? He'd probably get a "No" for an answer.

So Alfred grew a pair and marched himself over to the corner booth. "Hey," he said, awkwardly tapping the kid's shoulder.

Behind him, he could hear Gilbert giving a poor attempt to smother his giggles. Bastard.

"E-Eh?" The kid looked up, and Alfred was taken aback by his eyes. They were indigo - almost purple - and were bright even through the lenses of wiry glasses.

Alfred ignored the way his heart began to pump faster and casually leaned on the table, drumming his fingers. "I was wondering," he began, putting on his best million dollar grin, "if you'd like to go out for dinner tonight."

_There!_ he thought triumphantly. _I did your stupid dare, Gil!_

He waited patiently for the rejection...

...that never came.

Instead, the kid seemed to perk up at the question. "Really?" he asked, pink dusting the rounds of his cheek. "You...notice me?"

Alfred blinked. "Uh, yeah," he confirmed, slightly weirded out. "But you can say no. I know it's kind of weird that I-"

"N-No, I'd actually love to go out for dinner tonight." The other blond smiled. "I'm Matthew. What's your name?"

"Alfred." Gilbert was now full-out guffawing behind them, but Alfred was past the point of caring. Instead, he was observing how Matthew's hair suddenly looked so soft. And he kind of wanted to...touch it?

Alfred smiled back at the soft-spoken blond, but he was thinking, _Oh shit._

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** So this will basically where I'll be writing random ideas that aren't good enough to be their own oneshot/story. And random ideas that I'm afraid of starting and never finishing, because I seem to be doing that a lot in this fandom...heh...

I'll update this whenever a plot bunny ambushes me.

'til next time~


	2. II: Dinner with the Devil

**Short and Sweet  
><strong>

II: Dinner with the Devil

Matthew was a cold, unmoving body laying on the bed of the master bedroom, lighted only by a candle on the bedside table. To his left, Alfred stood by the bedside, head bowed as silence engulfed the room.

On the other side of the bed, standing and basking in the solemn silence, was the cloaked figure of Death.

"I miss you, Mattie," Alfred whispered. He stroked the other blond's cheek carefully, lovingly. Then his eyes traveled upwards to look into the hooded face of the other presence. "What do you want..."

It didn't gratify him with a reply; Alfred tore his eyes away from the dark figure to admire his lover once again. He could remember yesterday: He and Matthew had just been eating ice cream. Matthew had been so vibrant, so happy, so _alive._ And yet at that moment-

"Alfred Jones," Death croaked.

Alfred's hand jerked back and his head snapped upwards to it.

"Would a human rather die with a soul, or continue living without one?"

Alfred's eyes flared. "What the hell do you mean by that?"

Through the darkness, he thought he could see two glowing crimson orbs. "I am waiting for an answer."

"...I would keep living," Alfred kept his eyes downcast, "if I knew that there was someone who would make me feel like I _did_ have a soul."

There was a sudden gust of wind, blowing the candle out. The room was cast into darkness, and Alfred could feel his heart start beating faster - he never was able to bode well in the dark. He wondered vaguely if the thing was still there, just standing, crimson gaze boring into him, judging, calculating-

"Alfred?"

Almost by magic, the candle was relighted.

Alfred found himself staring into the most beautiful indigo eyes he'd ever seen.


	3. III: Taking Turns

**Short and Sweet**

III: Taking Turns

"Please, Al? Just for tonight?"

"No way, Mattie! As the hero, I can't just lie back and let you do..._that_ to me!"

"But I let you do it to _me_ all the time!"

"That's 'cause you're the damsel in distress..."

"What was that?"

"Nothing! As I was saying, why should it be any different tonight?"

"It's not fair. I'm still hurting from that position you made me stay in last night. Body parts aren't supposed to bend that way."

"You seemed to like it in the end."

"A-Alfred..."

"..."

"Please, Al? I'll make it up to you."

"Scout's honor?"

"Pinky swear, even."

"...Fine. Go get the nail polish."


	4. IV: Serenade

**Short and Sweet**

IV: Serenade

The first time Alfred saw him, he was walking down the street with a large, unfolded map in his hands, being rotated this way and that as he tried to figure out his location. Alfred, bemused, propped his arms on his guitar and watched in much bemusement as the bespectacled blond nearly ran into a tree.

"Maple…" he heard the man mumble, and he wouldn't have thought in a hundred years that he, Alfred F. Jones, would find another man just so cute.

He watched as the other male - presumably a tourist, judging by the backpack, camera slung around his neck, and the hopelessly lost expression - gave a frustrated sigh and sat himself down on the curb, just a few feet away.

Alfred could barely bite back his grin as he gave a strum of his guitar, and then: _"My life is brilliant, my love is pure."_

The man took no notice of him, proceeding to draw his knees into his chest and burying his face in them.

_"I saw an angel…"_

Alfred made sure that the last word was just a little bit louder and that strum of his guitar was just a little bit harder.

This time, the man did look up, golden tresses brushing an exposed neck - then he turned and looked straight at Alfred.

_"You're beautiful,"_ the guitarist continued, refusing to be deterred by those gorgeous indigo irises. _"You're beautiful, it's true."_

A curious expression spread across the other's face, and Alfred halted his strumming, grinning back at him cheekily. "You lost?"

The blond made a weak gesture at the crumpled map in his lap. "Is it that obvious?" His voice was slightly accented - maybe Canadian?

Alfred licked his lips. "I can help, if you want," he offered, slinging his guitar over his back. "I know this city like the back of my own hand."

The other chuckled slightly, getting up. "I owe you one." He gave a crooked smile, blinking almost shyly behind his wiry-framed glasses.

"Nah, dude, don't worry about it." Alfred held his hand out for a handshake and, when Matthew took it, marvelled at how…_easily_ their hands fit together. "I'm Alfred."

"I'm Matthew."

And so began their tour.

(Their first meeting would eventually lead to a first date, first kiss, first love, then first time.)

(But that's a story to tell for another time.)

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><p><strong>an:**

****Getting sidetracked from Songbird, blah. Dx


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